Brooms, Pies, and Oh Fck is that a Spider!
by HoodedSpellcaster
Summary: Draco and Blaise sneak out to play Night Quidditch. /Draco/Blaise friendship, Sixth Year


QLFC Round 12 — Out Of The Ordinary

ROUND PROMPT: Out of eight choices I picked number 4. Write a LIGHTHEARTED FRIENDSHIP story about SLYTHERIN CHARACTERS.

OPTIONAL PROMPTS:

9\. (quote) 'Mother, I want to see him fly!' - George R. , A Game of Thrones / 10. (word) instinct / 14. (creature) Acromantula

A/N: I tried to make this as lighthearted as I could without diverging too far from the canon. So, this is set on Draco and Blaise's sixth year at Hogwarts and it's slightly AU because Draco still plays Quidditch while trying to find a way to kill Dumbledore. Thanks to Jordi for proofreading.

* * *

Draco Malfoy tapped his long pale fingers in a simple rhythm on the surface of the Slytherin table and followed carefully what was going on on the other side of the Great Hall on the Gryffindor table. He didn't even notice when Blaise sat across from him. Blaise greeted him shortly, but the blond was too focused on staring at the back of the Potter's head to acknowledge the presence of his friend. Blaise quickly grew so tired of watching the one-sided staring contest that he shot a spoonful of Shepherd's pie at Draco, hitting him straight on his cheek.

"Hey!" Draco cried out, wiping the meat filling off his face and glaring angrily at the other Slytherin.

"Hi to you, too. Now can you stop scalping Potter and pay some attention to me?" Blaise asked rhetorically.

Draco grumbled something rude under his breath and Blaise, whilst he heard every word, deliberately decided to ignore them. Draco began to eat his already cold dinner, now only subtly glancing at Harry every now and then.

Blaise rolled his eyes at the lack of actual subtlety in Draco's actions. "Sometimes I think that you're in some weird perverse way infatuated with Potter. You long for him, don't you?" Blaise babbled, slick words dripping from his tongue as he tried to push Malfoy over the edge.

"Ha ha ha, and what kind of hex you want me to use on you? How about the one with boils? I think the boils would suit you," Draco shot back prickly, a small smirk forming on his lips as he pulled out his wand.

Blaise's hand automatically moved to his face just to check if anything was on his skin that didn't belong there.

Draco snorted. "Calm down, fancy. I didn't even say the incantation."

Blaise was all about his good looks and Draco knew that very well. After living in the same dorm room since they were eleven, there weren't many things for them left to find out about each other. And especially now, when Crabbe and Goyle had proved themselves too simple to provide any intellectual conversation about anything apart from food—it had taken way too many years from Draco to realize that—and now that Nott, the huge nerd that he was, had barricaded himself to the library there hadn't been any other option left for Draco than to seek the company of the only one left that could reach his magnificence. Thus, his instant friendship with Blaise Zabini was born.

"Are you ready for tonight's practice?" Draco changed the subject and glanced at Blaise from behind his glass of pumpkin juice.

Blaise grinned. "I was born ready."

"Great," Draco said simply, leaving his unfinished dinner and Blaise alone at the table. He had during the past year formed a habit of disappearing without a word every now and then, but Blaise didn't care much about that. He did have his suspicions about what Draco did on his spare time between classes or when he left the dormitory in the middle of the night all tense and jittery just to come back to toss and turn in his bed for the rest of the night. Blaise didn't want any part in that, so he ignored it, as always, and concentrated on the upcoming night.

He and Draco, as unlikely as it had sounded in the beginning of the year, sneaked out the castle every week during the night between Friday and Saturday to play Quidditch. Blaise knew that for Draco it was a way to vent his feelings—Blaise didn't blame the blond for that—and apart from their 'friendly' insults, Draco seemed truly himself only when he was flying.

Even though Blaise wasn't a part of the team, nor did he much care about the sport, he liked their nightly Quidditch practices. He had fun devising complex plans for them to exit the castle without anyone noticing and it was even funnier to see his ingenious plans working even better than expected. The fact they had never gotten caught (and even that one time they almost did, Filch had blamed their Sticking Charm on the Weasley twins who didn't even go Hogwarts any more) had been partly because of their good luck, but Blaise liked to think he stood out in both brilliance and stealth above all the rest

* * *

Two dark figures flashed through the night sky so swiftly that someone with untrained eyes would have only perceived them as an optical illusion. They continued their way away from the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest, only speeding up the further they flew. In the pale moonlight the other noticed how the hood slid of his friend's head and revealed windswept blond hair.

Draco grinned proudly at himself, assuming Blaise was at least a dozen feet behind him, but he didn't dare to look behind because he knew Blaise would take advantage of that and bypass him with flying colours. So Draco, gripping tightly on his broomstick, concentrated on going faster and keeping steady despite the dangerous winds that tried to push him off his broom.

Blaise, too, had some difficulties with flying straight as his broom moved off its course all the time because of the wind, but he had no intention to let Draco beat him two times in a row. He managed in the end to get side by side with the blond when there were only thirty yards to the edge of the forest. They could clearly see their goal, the tallest tree on the forest's edge, and the one who would pass that tree first would win their race, and get five Galleons, and the right to call the loser whatever derogatory name for a whole week.

For the past week Blaise had had time to get used to his new name, which had very unflatteringly been 'Flobberworm'. He had decided that if he would win this time, he would call Draco 'Mrs. Potter'. Especially loudly, he had decided, if Harry Potter was anywhere near them. That would give people something to think about. It had been embarrassing enough when Draco had, when they had first competed, decided to call Blaise 'Mother'. Even Peeves had been there to twist the knife on the wound, pestering him (and Draco) by singing: "Mother, I want to see him fly! Fly, fly high up in the sky! Let your baby boy fly!" Draco had at that point tried to hex the poltergeist.

Now Draco dodged a particularly high pine by a hairbreadth and accidentally let Blaise gain a few feet on him. Blaise instead was keeping his eyes on the towering tree straight in front of them. He aimed to get there first and the only problem with that was, that so did Draco. And when the blast of wind hit them, it was easier for Draco, who played Quidditch in the school team to keep on his broom than it was to Blaise, who practised only once a week. Draco outflew him again and got closer to the goal every second and while Blaise got quickly his broom under his control again, those seconds had been all that Draco had needed. He didn't manage to catch up with Draco; the blond kept his lead till the goal.

"It looks like you, Flobberworm, owe me five Galleons again," Draco said with his hand outstretched and a tiny smirk finding its way to his face.

Blaise pursed his lips and reluctantly dug a pouch of coins from his inner pocket, giving five golden Galleons to his friend.

Grinning, Draco pocketed them. "Do you want to rest a bit?" he asked then, his voice friendly and light and only a little out of breath.

Their race hadn't been easy, and without that last gust of wind, Draco wasn't sure if he would have won. It was sometimes hard for him to understand why Zabini hadn't joined the Slytherin team. He was an excellent flyer and Quidditch player, even better than some actual players of the team. On the other han, he was glad, because if anyone could ever threaten his position as the team's Seeker it was Blaise.

Draco flew downwards. Blaise followed him first to the treetops, then below the branches, and in the end down to the almost untouched leaf-covered ground.

"Did you bring the Snitch?" Draco asked. He didn't look at Blaise, but scoped their surroundings. The Forbidden Forest at night still sent shivers down his spine, thanks to his very first detention back in his first year at Hogwarts.

Blaise nodded, though he knew Draco wasn't looking directly at him, and startled when he heard sudden rustling. There was something moving on the ground.

"Stay. Still," he whispered to Draco, who was by now standing firmly on the ground, while Blaise was still on his broom, floating few feet off the ground. He took his wand from his pocket, pointing it at the ground. "Lumos," he said, holding his wand tightly, and the bright like made both boys squint their eyes for a second, but when they opened them, they could see how spiders that were bigger than their heads moving away from them because of the light. His first instinct was to scream, but his voice got stuck in his throat.

Draco was petrified. He held his breath, staring at the hairy, black creatures. One of them skittered over his shoe.

"Blaise," Draco started, sounding alarmed when louder rustling got closer to him. He didn't dare to look behind.

"Draco, I think we should go," Blaise said carefully, not turning his eyes away from the Acromantula that was bigger than Hagrid's dog, almost bigger than Hagrid himself, and that was coming closer to Draco. "As in, right now!"

At Blaise's mark, Draco snatched his broom from the ground, mounted it, and forced it into the air faster than ever before, even catching a glimpse of the beast in the woods before flying through the branches and not caring about his hair getting messy or clothes getting torn.

Blaise flew out of the foliage seconds before Draco and not stopping until they were several feet above the treetops. He light of his wand had gone off as his concentration on the spell had slackened, so up in the air only the growing moon and stars lightened up the night. Darkness was the big part of the Night Quidditch's charm, but now he wasn't sure if they even could play any more. Blaise wasn't willing to admit it, but knowing that there were Acromantulas so close to Hogwarts made him a little uneasy. Though the situation hadn't turned dangerous, per se, they were both shaken and trying to hid it from one another.

"So," Blaise started after the prolonged silence, "do you still want to play?"

Draco stared at the faintly glowing Snitch that Blaise had taken out from his pocket. The Night Quidditch wasn't actually Quidditch at all, since there were only two Seekers and a Snitch, but it was good practice and Blaise had charmed the Snitch to return to them in case neither of them found it within two hours, so they couldn't lose it. But tonight, Draco thought, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he didn't feel like Seeking any more.

"Not really," he admitted reluctantly.

Blaise sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin for that. Race you to the castle?" he asked.

"Want to lose this one, too, Doll Face?" Draco hummed.

"You're not seriously calling me that," Blaise said, pointing an accusing finger at Draco.

Draco smirked, wiggling his thin eyebrows. "If you win, I can change it to something else. If you don't, the nickname stands."

"Fine," Blaise groaned and moved to his flying stance, taking a better grip of his broom."On your mark."

He seriously wasn't going to lose this one.

* * *

A/N: Well, in my head Blaise won that one and Draco started calling him 'Ball Face' instead. :P


End file.
